A Three Months Deadline
by LiliGrey
Summary: Harry had just been told that he had only three months left to live. He drafted a list of all his dreams and wishes. On the very top of this list, was marrying his school crush…Draco was separated from his boyfriend of ten years, Theodore, and about to be forced into an arranged marriage by his father, with seemingly no way out...


Narcissa Malfoy eased open the door to her son's room, or rather, the room her stubbornly rebelling son was grounded in by his furious father.

"Draco." She sighed, knowing her answer already just looking at the way her son was holding himself whilst he seemed engrossed in the book in his lap. Anyone not knowing Draco as well as she did would have thought him completely relaxed, enjoying a quiet afternoon with a nice read, but she knew better. The way his jaw was held in silent defiance, how his poise showed contempt, but most of all, the way his bottom lip protruded slightly, showing that he planned to be just as stubborn as his father on the issue if not more so.

"You can tell father that I have no intention whatsoever of replacing Theo with some wonderfully well-bred pure-blood witch, least of all because they are witches." Draco said in an even tone, without breaking stride in the middle, as if it was a well remembered verse.

When Narcissa didn't answer for long minutes and showed no intention of leaving, he finally looked up at his mother. He blinked once, then arched a graceful brow.

"Ah." He mused but did not elaborate. "I am assuming father would like to see me in his study?"

"The west parlour, actually." Narcissa replied, earning her another eyebrow raise, she then opened the door further to allow her son through.

Seven years after he graduated from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and now growing out to be a dashing young man, Draco Malfoy still kept many traits from his school years, such as his arrogant demeanor. Such as the boyfriend that his father did not approve of.

The real problem here was not that Theo is a wizard, which was a problem in the eyes of his father of course, but most of the wizarding community was quite open minded and accepting of such relationships. It was not even the fact that it would make him unlikely to produce a legitimate Malfoy heir, as there were many illegitimate ways of getting around that. It was simply because the Malfoy family was broke, same as many other pure blood families after the end of the Wizarding War, when Lord Voldemort was vanquished on the night of his mysterious encounter with the Potters. Said other pure blood families also happen to include the Notts, as Theo's father was a Death Eater, along with his father, Lucius Malfoy.

After the seizure of many family properties and investments, and endless bribery and charity donations, the Malfoy family escaped Azkaban with its reputation somewhat intact, although suffering a significant dent in their Gringotts account. This all happened before Draco could remember of course, but the situation deteriorated in recent years due to the collapse of the Wizarding economy.

And now his father wanted him to marry into the pure blood families that did not suffer as badly from the war due to their neutral standing, so that the Malfoys don't have to survive on their emergency funds, of bloody course.

He mused furiously as he walked briskly behind his mother, legs slightly shaky due to his recent imprisonment in his own rooms, though he schooled his features to betray no emotions at all, not even the confusion that his father chose to meet in the west parlour, where the Malfoys treated private guests and sometimes arranged less official business arrangements. Though his efforts were somewhat ruined when he walked into the parlour and promptly froze in shock.

Sitting opposite his father, dressed in formal robes of a shade of deep green that brought out his eyes brilliantly and looking entirely too comfortable inside the grand room, was the last person Draco expected to see at the Manor right now.

"Ah, Draco, glad you could join us. I am sure you remember Auror Potter, who went to school with you, and in the same year as well, I believe." Lucius said in way of introduction.

Draco made no move to shake the outward stretched hand of his school nemesis, whom he had only met in passing for the past seven years and had less than pleasant feelings about. The atmosphere in the room became slightly awkward, but Draco ignored the death glare and the reproachful look his father and mother sent him, focusing his attention on Potter instead. Whatever the Auror was doing here, it was sure to be nothing good.

Potter gave a slight shrug as he withdrew his right hand, looking unperturbed by Draco's hostility, which served to make him just that more annoyed, exactly like in their school days.

"Well, now that all interested parties are here, take a seat Draco, and we can discuss the business that brought Auror Potter here." Lucius looked at his son sharply, as if promising a serious lecturing after this is over. Draco ignored his silent warning and made his way to sit across from Potter, his curiosity getting the better of him.

/

"No, absolutely not." Draco forced out from gritted teeth. His anger had been mounting the moment Potter started speaking, in that arrogant way of his, as if he expected everyone to see his words as the paramount of truth and reason, just like the way his parents were nodding along. He uncrossed his legs and stood up in one fluid movement, striding towards the door, body shaking with fury. But his father moved quicker.

"If you step out of this door..." Lucius' eyes glinted dangerously, his voice shaking with barely suppressed anger. Draco would have backed down a month ago, probably even a week ago, but he couldn't care less now.

"If this is the fucking alternative, then I would choose to be locked in my room for the rest of my bloody life!" He shouted back. Fuck guests and fuck Potter.

"Enough!" Both men turned to stare, breathing heavily, as the matriarch of the Malfoy family spoke up. Narcissa had a scowl on her face as she eyed the two grown men, her gaze alone scolding them like misbehaved children.

Satisfied with their stunned silence, she gave a curt nod and turned to their guest. "Mr. Potter, I sincerely appologise for the lack of manners of my husband and son. It has been a trying week for us all. I am sure this is a matter you would prefer to discuss in more detail with Draco, alone."

Potter gave a slightly uncertain nod.

" _And_ ," here she turned to her husband, who had just opened his mouth to retort, "Lucius, why don't you accompany me on a stroll in the gardens, for it is such nice weather, and leave the boys to it." It wasn't made out to be a question.

The staring contest lasted for a few tense seconds, until Narcissa simply walked towards the doorway and held out her arm, her whole posture an image of elegant arrogance. Lucius took it reluctantly, and was quickly ushered out of the room.

The door clicked closed and dead silence reined the room.

"Erm, Draco, um, I, uh," Potter cleared his throat, and that was all it took to set Draco off again, this time with no intimidating mother to censor his fury.

"Don't you dare _Draco_ me." He snapped, rounding on the gob smacked auror.

"Wait, wait," Potter held up his hands as if fending off a physical attack, "just, just hear me out…"

"Oh, you mean hearing out your brilliant plans to humiliate me and my family?" His voice took on a slightly maniacal tone as all the pent up frustration of the preceding week rushed out of him.

"You might have fooled my parents back there but you expect me to believe all that bullshit? Let me think, what was it? Oh yes, "I have had deep feelings for Draco since school but did not realize it as what it was at the time", and that one, "I had kept abreast of news of him in recent years and believed him to be happier without me", which you are quite correct in assuming, and my _very_ favourite, "I would like to ask for his hand in marriage in exchange for the entirety of the Black fortunes and half of the Potter investments". What do you think I am, _buying my hand in marriage_ , some kind of high-end prostitute for your little Potty Coming Out Party?" He all but shouted the last sentence, and for the first time since his father confiscated his wand, he really missed having it because he desperately needed to hex someone.

Potter had the grace to look sheepish as he cowered before him, hands still held up high. "Okay, okay. I know that probably made me sound like a dick. Look, if it helps, Pansy sends her greetings."

Draco simply stared at him, certain that he was hearing things now. "Pansy? You've been talking to Pansy Parkinson?" He was too shocked by the bizarreness of the situation now that that was the only thing he could think of.

"Not so much as talking, more like she just forced her presence upon me when Hermione came visiting the other day, but that's beside the point." Potter replied drily. "And for your reference, I came out two years ago around the time of the Prophet scandal so no one paid much attention."

Potter gave a tentative smile and shrugged, relaxing his defensive posture. "Look, why don't we sit down." He gestured, as Draco was still incapable of doing anything but stare at him for the moment.

Draco sniffed but did as suggested, still unsure what to make of this turn of events. Pansy was someone he trusted, a friend whom he knew would think in his best interests. And if she, for whatever convoluted reason sent Potter here, then he can count on this to be part of her unorthodox plans to help him, although they'd better be really good plans.

He sat down stiffly in the chair he vacated earlier, across from Potter, crossing his arms protectively and tilting his chin up in that universal gesture of "well, talk then."

Potter sank down into the armchair with obvious relief. Now, looking back on it, he could see all those finishing touches Pansy must have made to prepare Potter for this formal meeting; how Potter seemed uncomfortable in his, no doubt new, formal robes, and how stiff he seemed during the meeting with his parents earlier.

Clearing his throat twice and musing up his ridiculous hair, Potter began eloquently. "Right." He got a quirked eyebrow for his efforts.

Heaving a sigh of defeat, as if lost to some inner struggle, he tried again, "Have you heard of the recent case with the Prophet?"

"If you mean the Daily Prophet..."

"No," Potter waved his hand with distaste on his face, as if swatting a fly, "the Auror case, the one about the rogue Seer who kept on predicting gruesome deaths of important people and having them all come true so far."

"Let me guess, prophesying about The-Boy-Who-Lived is just so irresistible that he decided to predict your heroic passing, too?" Draco drawled, the insults from his school days coming back easily, although his smirk quickly disappeared when Potter only gave him a deep meaningful look.

"Oh."

"She." Potter continued as if not interrupted. "As I was saying, this Seer finally got herself into trouble when she predicted that the leader of the smuggling ring we've been investigating for almost two years, would die "with his body and soul shredded to pieces". She got abducted and we were sent on a rescue mission." Draco could see where this was going already.

"Turns out they are smuggling more than just magical creatures and illegal potion ingredients. We found a safe house with a dozen or so magical children inside, all orphans or squibs. And a ship of unknown cargo they were unloading." Here, Potter drew a deep breath, as if reliving a terrible memory. "Anyway, the details are not important. Me and Ron, oh, he's my partner, found the Prophet first, it wasn't a pretty sight. Well, she made a prophecy about me, as you guessed, and died a few minutes later." Here he paused a bit, then quirked a dry smile. "I'm her seventh prophecy and her last. My predecessor died when he tried to resist capture on the cargo ship, a curse ricocheted and hit an artifact. Blew him to bits. The aurors after him were too far away and luckily escaped major injury."

A subdued silence filled the room as both men sank into their own thoughts. After a few minutes of processing all this new information, Draco spoke up slowly, picking his words, "This may make me sound like a heartless bastard, but how is any of this related to me?"

Potter snorted, "Blunt as always, I see." then held up a placating hand as Draco glared at him. "Well, unlike some of her more unfortunate victims, I was given a "deadline". Of three months. And if I've calculated correctly, it will be around or on the day of Halloween."

Potter held up his hand more firmly to stop Draco from interrupting, his tone turning business-like this time. "You see, one thing I hadn't mentioned during that meeting with your parents was that this agreement only lasts three months. After that, I will leave everything to you in my will. And in the case that I don't die a gruesome death, fingers crossed, you are free to divorce me and take all the Black fortune and Grimmauld Place, which should all have been yours to begin with. Oh, the contract and my will are probably being drafted by Pansy and Hermione as we speak." He added as an afterthought.

Draco blinked. It was a lot to take in for one day and it all seemed too good to be true. He voiced that, "I fail to see how this arrangement benefits you in any way. Apart from cleaning out some storage space from your no doubt full Gringotts account."

Potter leaned back as he easily sank into the role of negotiating. "I don't see why a Slytherine like you would be complaining about such a good deal."

Now it was Draco's turn to snort. "Please. My school nemesis just came around visiting and offered gold on a platter. How can I not be suspicious?"

They stared at each other until Potter backed down first. "Fine. Be like that." He agitated his hair some more, and took a deep breath. "If you must know, all the bits that you nicely quoted just now were true." His voice lowered to a mumble.

"The bit about you hating me more than you realized, or the bit about where we'd both be better off not seeing each other for the rest of our lives?" Draco taunted. This was far too amusing.

"Ugh, don't be difficult Draco!" Potter rubbed at his face, which was now starting to turn pink. "I've liked you since school, okay? I know it's a bit hard to believe right now, and trust me, it took me two whole years to figure it out, but well, fuck it." He looked up defiantly, as if daring Draco to challenge his claim.

For the first time since he met Potter, Draco found that he didn't really want to. He merely raised his eyebrows, "Okay then, if you say so."

"What, just like that?" Potter looked at him in disbelief.

He shrugged. "What were you expecting? Me running around screaming? I thought we got past that stage already." He retorted drily.

"Just let me get this whole thing straight first. So you got cursed, or prophesized, whatever, to have three months to live, and you thought that your dying wish would be marrying your school nemesis turned school crush, then leave him a pile of gold and a family property. Correct?"

Potter nodded mutely.

"Out of this, I have to act along the charade of becoming your husband, before I can get said pile of gold and property." He prompted and Potter nodded again.

"As you mentioned, Pansy and Hermione will be drafting this contract together, so I believe they would have both of our interests in mind, making this effectively a win-win situation. Although I need to confirm your tale with Pansy and we will need to discuss the details of both my obligation and yours. But for the moment, I think we have a deal."

Draco extended his hand and Potter shook it.

"Deal."


End file.
